18-Jul-24, Colle Ameno B&B, Rovereto Italy
The taxi driver stopped right outside the door of the B&B and helped me unship the heavy box from the back of his van. The journey to this point had been unremarkable – so much so, I wondered if I’d allowed myself too much time to get here. I had all afternoon and all of tomorrow to get my bike assembled, checked out, and anything broken or missing replaced. I was early, but the staff were there to check me in quickly and show me through to the lovely enclosed courtyard and garden at the rear. My box was far too heavy to lug up to the room, which was up two flights of stairs – one to the upper balcony, and another to the upper rooms. With nothing really to unpack, I dropped everything and headed for a quick lunch at a café in the square just meters from the huge wooden side entrance of the B&B. Fed and watered I wandered back to assemble my rig.
The Trento valley is such a popular cycling area it wasn’t easy to identify other NC4K riders versus general cycle tourists. But in the bike rack opposite where I worked stood two bikes with something hard to define, but unmistakably the rigs of fellow participants. It was re-assuming to see that I the only one who liked to be prepared ahead of time – although it’d be some time before I met their owners and got the story of their preparations to this point. My rear cage was too long to stand in the remaining slots of the stand, so it became the first of many that would arrive over the next day and occupy every free wall space on the ground and upper levels.
Lunch eaten and bike ready, I headed out for a lesiurely test spin up to the nearest Bici grill (local cycling cafes) along the riverside path. It was just 8km away – perfect to make sure everything was in order on the bike. Along the way, I made what was intended to be a quick visit to a local bike shop – but which became a longer and more enjoyable affair than expected. I’d finished paying for the two CO2 bombs, getting my tyres up to pressure using the shop track pump, and was on the verge of leaving when I noticed beside me a superb, clearly handbuilt steel bike frame. It turned out the shop owner was also a frame builder, which of course ended up with a tour of his workshop to have a proper look at his setup and the wonderful machines he had in various stages of completion. If I hadn’t been about to start a 4,000km ride I’d have been tempted to add to my bike stable on the spot!
The test ride was pleasant, if a little on the warm side. Of course not all was quite dialled in on the rig, but it was pretty close. My saddle height, despite being set exactly on the mark it had been when packing, just did not feel right. I felt cramped, especially when tucking onto the tri-bars. After a coke and cake watching Victor Campanaerts pull off an unlikely win on stage 18 of Le Tour, I lifted the saddle a couple of millimetres, and tweaked the angle of the tri-bars to slope upward rise slightly more. Each was a small adjustment, but together they were just enough. The ride back felt comfortable and flowing, both riding on the tops or dropped onto the tri-bars. Comfortable that is in terms of riding position – at close on forty degrees of heat, it was anything but comfortable temperature wise. I felt the need for a proper leg stretch tomorrow to loosen up and spin out the nerves – but it’d have to be earlier in the day based on this little excursion.
19-Jul-24, Rovereto
I can’t quite remember if I met Christopher & Benjamin, the owners of those first two bikes, the afternoon before but I definitely recall chatting with them over breakfast. By the sounds of it, their training had been significantly more structured and intensive than mine, especially around climbing. Contrasting that though, this was their first ultra bike packing event. Although no aspect of their rigs would have suggested that. They were properly thought out and set up. I was especially envious of the Tailfin rear bags. I had considered one myself, but they’re a fairly pricey option and there was the comfort knowing my Revelate saddle pack had worked well for me out on the road many times before. I was OK sacrificing some convenience for the confidence of a tried and tested option.
Breakfast became a longer (and enjoyable) event than expected as we talked about all things cycling and bike packing related. Those of us who feel drawn to ridiculously long and hard cycling events are a small, some might even say “odd”, crowd. So I guess it’s hardly surprising to find we share a lot of common ground. But the three of us clicked almost immediately on a deeper level – we weren’t here to race, we were looking for that ethereal thing often lacking from everyday life: adventure. Being out there alone, on an unknown road heading toward a far distant destination. Of course it didn’t hurt that we also shared a dry sense of humour where practically nothing was off limits – including, maybe especially, ourselves.
I eventually rolled out onto the riverside cycle path an hour or two later than intended – not that it really mattered. I’d still be back around lunchtime with enough time to do my laundry and remaining pre-ride chores. The heat was already rising, although still tolerable compared to yesterday afternoon. Being near dead flat, I flew along with minimal effort. The path had a few choke points, and a couple of false junctions where the real path went down under a road. It was handy to know about these in advance – the path was not wide enough for rapid manoeuvres if we were still in a large bunch at these sections tomorrow. Amusingly, I also passed a sign for the 46th parallel shortly before the coffee stop and turnaround point, a Bici grill on the outskirts of Trento. I wondered how many parallels we’d cross getting to the arctic circle.
My iced coffee arrived looking more like a cocktail, which amused Yoli greatly. Together with the cake, they hit the spot perfectly. As pleasant, and safe feeling as the lovely café location was, I was nervous that my bike was out of sight in the parking area so I didn’t linger. Plus with every minute the temperature was steadily rising. A light tailwind was building though, which shortened my return journey considerably. Pleasant as this was, it was also a troubling precursor to the event proper tomorrow. The opening 180km to the top of Brenner pass was a South to North route. If the wind direction held, it’d be uphill into a wind for all of the first day until we hit the final downhill towards Innsbruck. From my very first glance at the route all those months back I had known that the first two days getting out of the Alps, and the next two days in southern Germany would be the some of the toughest of the whole journey. A headwind was pretty much the last thing I needed to see on the forecast. But there it was, another aspect of the adventure ahead – a challenge to be overcome.
Lunch, laundry and a nap whilst my gear dried under the fierce Trentino sun nicely filled the remainder of the day until 4pm when it was time to head to registration. Christopher, Benjamin and I had discussed the process over breakfast. The approach of the organizers felt nicely laid back. So we took the lack of any “bike check” being mentioned in the guide as a sign that only our presence was needed, and walked the 250m to the Manifattura Tabacchi (an old tobacco factory now refurbished into a business and events centre). It would only take minutes to nip back for our bikes if needed, although that seemed pretty unlikely.
Sure enough – registration consisted of a short queue, collection of our nicely minimal “packs”: bike number; brevet card; and cap. Nothing extra that would be a problem to carry, or ditch before starting. We were sorted with more than an hour to spare before the official briefing. One of the guys had spotted a bar on the way in, which seemed an infinitely preferable place to while away the time. Our small band was joined by Justin, a 6’8″ Texan who’d finished edition V two years back. The route and early stages were different, but it was useful and interesting to hear some snippets about the final sections, which were largely similar. One thing he did share resonated with a concern of mine. The sparsity of places to re-supply further north, especially on weekends. With limited luggage space it was a worry, although I did have a small backpack and empty back pockets, which would hopefully hold just enough to get between pit stops.
None of us ordered alcohol – which was a departure from my usual routine. In fact, I hadn’t touched any for the past four months. I figured that my chances of success needed every help they could get, and so with the liver being two thirds of the energy production process I’d made the conscious decision to take a break from booze. So there we sat, the four of us, enjoying “Radler Zeros” (shandy made with 0% beer) – a drink which we did not invent, but I’ll credit Christoper with naming, since he paid for both rounds as a thank you for me sharing my route cue cards with them.
The briefing itself wasn’t much more than a run through items we’d already seen in the event manual – although given how few people read the material sent, I guess it’s inevitable that organizers felt a need to re-emphasize it. Even after having the guide and sitting through the hour of presentation I still heard comments and questions that had already been covered in depth. One part did not come across well in translation though – which was a mention of the finish closing at 9pm on the 10th August. What they meant, we hoped, was that was the time the staff (and a chance of an official stamp and photo) would leave. The cutoff was stated everywhere else as midnight that day, although hopefully we weren’t going to be running so late as to be anywhere near that 3 hour gap. Briefing done, we collectively decided the unofficial drinks had danger written all over it, and grabbed pizzas that we quickly scoffed in the courtyard back at the B&B. Justin was the first to leave so he could catch the supermarket for remaining supplies, but we all bailed pretty early in order to make the most of our last unrushed night before the ride-eat-sleep-repeat routine took over.
